


conglomerate

by orphan_account



Category: DCU (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Young Avengers (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Multi, im not tagging everything, pairings are in chapter titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:29:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: mini fics from assorted tumblr prompts. feel free to also make requests in the comments.





	1. M'gann/Conner

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is M'gann/Conner, surprise party. Rated Teen.

Conner was exhausted. He didn’t like to complain- sarcastic jabs were one thing, grousing at his friends quite another- but they’d been running him around all day, and he was in desperate need of a break. Maybe a nap. Maybe some mindless video games with Gar. He envisioned these passtimes as he trekked to the Tower, thinking about the errands he’d been sent on today and the nagging feeling in the back of his head that there was something about today that was supposed to be different… something he was forgetting. 

He was sure he looked quite the domestic picture as he entered the foyer of the common space, like an ironic parallel of the weary husband returning from a long day in one of those old sitcoms that Kori and Dick liked to watch. He knew he felt the part- well, the exhaustion, probably minus the implied paternalistic possessiveness of- whoever’s voice he was hearing, muffled, through the door. 

He turned the knob, wondering what all the common had been a second ago. His mind was still running, and he hadn’t really tuned in to what they were saying, but it was quiet now. Almost… too quiet. Had they heard the knob?

He threw the door open, readying himself for intruders (unlikely, he would have noticed something amiss, and their security was impeccable), or walking into an incident that made him want to bleach his eyes (he really needed to teach Wally to lock the door sometimes), or, even better, another errand. 

What it was, though, was firmly in the ‘none of the above’ category. Everyone was standing around the couch, grinning, and the table was piled with a few presents. Artemis was leaning on the couch, Wally’s head in her lap, Zatanna curled against her other side- Conner didn’t want to ask what was going on there- Kaldur looked up from his phone, smiling. Dick stood near the wall, grinning dopily. 

And in the middle of it all was M’gann. Standing near the table of presents, now bouncing towards him, hands clasped together and a grin reaching from ear to ear. 

“Surprise! Happy birthday!” she gasped, now inches from Conner, who was still processing the situation. 

“It’s my birthday,” he said, the situation dawning on him. M’gann’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, even brighter, impossibly wide. Conner’s stomach fluttered with butterflies at the way her eyes crinkled up in the corners when she did so. 

“Yeah, silly!” She giggled. “Do you like it?” She gestured at the room energetically- balloons rolled around on the floor. Wally had one in his hand, tossing it up into the air and catching it again. She’d hung up streamers, ribbons on the wall, the whole nine yards. 

“You did all of this… for me?” 

M’gann blushed, the effect always adorable as it tinged her green skin. 

“Yeah.” She cast her gaze downward, eyeballing the floor, driving one toe into the floor. “It’s good, right?” 

He took her hand, she bit her bottom lip, and they locked eyes. 

“It’s perfect,” he reassured her softly, before kissing her quickly, chastely, on the side of the mouth. She giggled. 

Wally sat up, wolf-whistling, and Artemis smacked him in the side of the head with her magazine in reprimand. 

“Well. Presents? Cake?” Dick piped up from the corner. 

Conner laughed, fully enjoying the situation by now. His friends- all around, all here to celebrate him- he was grinning, he could feel it; his cheek muscles pleasantly tight, his chest restricted with a heavy sort of happiness, taking his mind off his sore feet and busy day. 

“Is this why you sent me running around all day?” he asked as Zatanna hopped off, walking to the other room, he assumed, to get the cake. 

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” M’gann said. 

He laughed, eyeing the presents. One was particularly badly wrapped, tape almost entirely obscuring the paper. Wally, he figured, had done that one. 

“Don’t apologize. Honestly, I don’t deserve you.” 

Artemis exhaled through her nose in an approximation of a laugh. “Not as much as Wally doesn’t deserve Artie,” Dick chirped, and then everyone was laughing, even Wally. 

Maybe the day hadn’t been such a bad one after all. 


	2. Wally/Artemis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is yj wally/artemis. a little angsty. rated T.

Crossed arms weren’t unusual for Artemis. In fact, quite the opposite. At the moment, though, her posture was giving Wally less of the “I’m a ridiculously attractive badass who doesn’t need to open up to anyone” vibe and more of a “attempting to physically contain boundless amounts of anger and tears inside myself because I don’t know how to open up to anyone and will therefore white-knuckle my arms into oblivion.” 

Wally wasn’t a fan. 

“Artie?” He tried to make his voice softer than normal, deliberately slowing down the pace at which the words left his mouth, trying to keep her calm, to tempt an emotion out of her like one would coax a cat down from a tree branch. Instead, he just succeeded in portraying his worry. 

Artemis’ trademark scowl deepened, her brow furrowed with what looked like worry, her lips drawn into a thin line. 

“Is something wrong?” 

He was careful with his word choice. He was trying to be more careful, since he’d- well. He’d made a lot of mistakes. He was trying not to repeat them. 

Simple things, he noted, like asking if anything was wrong instead of demanding Artemis tell him, could go along way. One step. Then the next. Not everyone could keep up with him- sometimes he couldn’t seem to keep up with himself. 

Artie understood him, though, unlike most of the team. Maybe aside from Dick. She knew what he was asking, even if he didn’t; she knew when to let him keep pressing versus when to shut him down, and how. 

She always knew what words to say, careful and cutting and carnivorous when Wally was rushed, wasteful, panting out a string of nothings. 

Artemis was silent. She looked grim, staring at the floor. Wally pushed his Coke away, switching the Tv off and placing the remote next to the can on teh table. He took his foot down from said table, something Artemis normally would have remarked on- “about time,” she’d likely say. Altogether, it painted a somber picture. He turned to her, eyes pleading, trying to meet her gaze, but her eyes were downcast. 

After a few seconds- torturous to Wally, creeping by, a minuscule eternity- she spoke. 

“I thought you were _dead_.” 

Her voice caught on the last word, and her eyes had the sort of look about them that was somehow both far away and glassy and sharp, detailing. He thought, with a startled pang, that she was on the verge of tears. 

Artemis wasn’t the kind of person who cried, ever. 

“I’m-” Wally was, for once, at a loss for words. It appeared to be an evening of firsts. 

He shifted closer, pressing their legs together, and wrapped his arms around her. She was breathing heavily, trying to gather her self control. 

He brought a hand up to cup her jaw, raising her face to his. 

“Hey. You know I could never leave you,” he said softly, stroking his thumb over her jawbone. 

She inhaled. “Yeah. I just- be careful.” 

He smiled, tight, but relieved. “For you.”


	3. Dick/Kori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dick/kori. no specific verse. T.

Dick Grayson was never nervous.

His media image was one of a suave, too-cool-for-school player, and in part he lived in up to that. He liked to think of himself as laid back, if not completely debonair- eating cereal in his underwear while Law and Order reruns blared wasn’t the usual magazine cover, but that was part of his life all the same.

One person who knew and embraced Dick in all his facets was Kori Anders, Tamaranean royalty turned drop-dead-gorgeous model. She and Dick had a spark more fiery than Kori’s roby-red hair, their conversations rife with easy laughter. Both possessed a certain charisma that, when combined, made them the ultimate power couple everyone wanted to emulate.

Okay, so maybe Dick had a little reason to be nervous. Truth was, if he was being honest with himself, he was terrified. He played it cool with most people, but in truth, he had known so much loss, and had such an unguarded heart, that he was scared at just how much he cared for Kori, and just how easily he could mess this up.

The atmosphere wasn’t exactly helping. They were on a date in one of Gotham’s finer restaurants- and by finer, of course, Dick meant more expensive.

The low lighting provided by tall flickering candles at the table centers, exposed brick walls and simple linen table clothes were all clearly orchestrated to project an aura of sociable coziness, a warm ambiance. The simplicity was deliberate, carefully crafted, and making Dick itch.

He could flaunt his wealth- er, well, Bruce’s wealth- and he had a natural charm that made the ladies and the press swoon at even the fanciest of galas. He could rub shoulders with some of the most influential people in the world with charm and grace, but he was blushing and stuttering through a simple dinner with his girlfriend in a low-key restaurant.

Kori was starting to notice, too, that something was off with Dick tonight. She didn’t nag or interrogate him, but asked him gentle questions when he appeared to be struggling with basic table chitchat; he kept glancing off at the waiter, paranoid that he was sending them judgemental looks.

There was something about places like these, subtly classy outings with vague polte talk, that Dick couldn’t wrap his head around. He was never one to curb his enthusiasm, he dealt in extreme emotions with ease, but being expected to just exist in a classy state, to pretend it was how he naturally was, to not be able to drop this fucking facade when the atmosphere taunted him with promises of faux-comfort, made his ears go red, his tongue thick in his mouth.

Kori looked at him, puzzled, a hint of concern making its way into her dazzling eyes.

Dick swallowed audibly.

“Dick, is something-”

He cut her off before she could finish, a faux-pas he normally wouldn’t have made.

“I think I love you. And- and I’m terrified,” he blurted.

Kori’s eyes got impossibly wider, head pulling back.

“Of course, and I am in love with you as well, I am not seeing why you are terrified?”

She shook her head, brow furrowed. Her voice had a musical lilt to it, like tinkling bells.

“I’m terrified that you’ll say no to-”

He was reaching in his pocket, grasping for a small black box, fumbling horribly.

“-this,” he finished, finally procuring the box, holding it in his open palm, and lifted the lid for Kori to see the contents- a glittering diamond ring.

Kori leaned across the table, practically sprawling across it, threading her fingers through the back of Dick’s hair to pull his head closer as she kissed him.

When she pulled away, he was panting, and she was grinning.

She sat back down gracefully, sliding the ring onto her finger and holding out her hand to admire it.

“Your fears were unfounded. Of course I accept.” She looked up, meeting his eyes.

“There is nothing I would prefer more. I love you.”

And her smile? Yeah, Dick fell in love all over again.


	4. Noh/Tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noh/Tommy. Incredibly explicit.

Noh was adventurous when it came to sex. Well, really, he had to be, given that it was all, well, alien to him, and therefore even the simplest things were an adventure. One would think this would make him more vanilla, but really, since everything was equally foreign and therefore all acts were on the same level, he was really just down for anything. He had a go-with-the-flow attitude, anyway. Or at least, he tried to. Kate had once told him that his acquiescent personality was a coping mechanism. He didn’t think she meant it in a bad way, though.

It resulted in few arguments, at least.

Tommy was his… lover, he believed was the earth term for it- and was also pretty adventurous himself. Mostly outside of the bedroom- as a speedster, it was hard not to be- but the aspect of his personality couldn’t help but transfer over behind closed doors a little.

So, it resulted in their sex life being an odd mash of Kree-Human mentality, and very, very athletic. Throw in their powers, and you got a little exhibitionism, quite a few broken pieces of furniture, some very arousing noises from each of them, a few almost-being-caught, and more than a few actually-being-caughts.

One thing they hadn’t tried, though, they ended up trying by accident.

Tommy was naked, hair a mess- very obvious sex hair if Noh had ever seen it, and they hadn’t even really started yet- sprawled across Noh’s bed, fisting the sheets, legs splayed open to give Noh access to, well, everything.

Noh’s mouth was around Tommy’s cock, and he was tracing small circles on the inside of either of his thighs with his thumbs. This was normal, something Noh did quite often, and vice versa.

Then, Tommy bucked his hips up from the mattress, desperately canting, trying to find some friction. Noh’s teeth scraped the underside of Tommy’s dick- not too hard, but hard enough to make most people uncomfortable. Tommy let out a strangled moan, and for a second Noh was worried that he’d hurt him. He pulled off, making to sit up.

“Oh my god, why’d you stop?” Tommy whined, ever so demanding. Impatience was another personality trait of his that often came into play- again, speedster, kinda impossible not to.

“Did I hurt you?” Noh inquired, looking Tommy in the eyes, brow furrowed and concern evident in his voice.

“Hurt me, ohmygod- no. No, you definitely didn’t.”

Noh cocked his head, and Tommy threw his head back in desperation.

“That thing with your teeth- or whatever, whatever you did there- God.” His voice was choked with arousal. “I didn’t know I was into that, but for the love of god, please keep doing it.” His last few words were heavily enunciated, pleading tone laced into them, and Noh smirked.

At that urging, he resumed his previous position and went back to work.


	5. natasha/clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clint and natasha have a little mission revolving around one Donald Trump. rated T.

Natasha was on what was arguably the worst mission she’d ever been on- and yeah, she was including the time things went sideways in Budapest. And the time she got trapped on a helicopter over the pacific in a storm. And the time she had to fight herself from another dimension. Or that time when she traveled back in time. Or that time she turned into a baby. Or- 

Actually, this might not be the worst mission she’d ever been on. Most annoying, though? Absolutely. 

Recon missions, she could do. Planting info? Piece of cake. Rescues? Maybe. Assassinations? They used to be her specialty.

Babysitting an overgrown manchild with hair that resembled corn who would not. stop. whining? Not so much. 

She didn’t do assassinations anymore, but she was starting to reconsider that stance. It sure would be a hell of a lot better than what she was currently putting up with. Glancing over at Clint, in the passenger seat of the bulletproof black car beside her, told her that he was thinking the same thing. A frown was etched so deep on his face that she could see him forming premature wrinkles in real time, and she’d probably have been able to hear the audible grind of his teeth- if the man in the back would just _shut up._  

The man, of course, being the one and only Donald Trump. And thank god there was only one of him, Nat thought with a scowl as she desperately tried to block out his blathering from the backseat of the armored car. 

“I honestly just think I’m amazing that way, and that’s what’s going to make America great again. The people love me, you know,” he continued, unaware- or perhaps just uncaring- of the toll he was taking on his bodyguards’ patience. 

“What people?” Nat grumbled. 

“Why’d we get stuck with this job, again?” Clint implored, turning to her. He carded a hand through his hair. “Are you sure we can’t just take him out ourselves? Like, absolutely positive?”

Nat sighed deeply. “We’re here to prevent him from getting shot, Clint.” 

“What about stabbed? Or poisoned? Or just punched to death?” Clint inquired hopefully. 

“Assassinated in general,” Nat corrected patiently as Clint sulked. 

The grating voice in the back grew even louder. Clint could feel himself wearing his molars down to nubs. If this schmuck kept talking, he’d need dentures by the time they arrived to the speaking hall where they would dump Trump on a different pair of handlers, only to watch his back while he presented. And then take him back home. Oh, sweet happy joy. 

“Are you sure they didn’t give us the wrong assignment? Maybe there was a mix-up at SHIELD and we’re supposed to be taking out a national threat. He counts as a national threat, right?” he asked hopefully. 

Natasha was staring straight out the windshield with dead eyes and a measured voice when she spoke. “As much as I wish that were the case, SHIELD was reinstated solely because this year’s election is going so catastrophically, and there’s a suspected mole in his campaign team,so he needed the extra protection. Which they chose us for because everyone else absolutely refused and we’re the ones on probation that need to prove ourselves.”

“Now if that doesn’t tell us something,” Clint grumbled. 

“So obviously we’re already on thin ice, and we don’t want to put the other agents at risk. As much as I would love, for once, to put some more red in the ledger,” she continued, as if Clint hadn’t said anything, “we can’t go off the books on this one. Strictly….”

She gripped the wheel, spinning into a parking space surrounded by screaming civilians holding signs- some supportive, a few mirroring the thoughts in her own head at the moment. 

“…..business,” she finished with a sigh. 

A hand on the gun concealed in her hip holster and another on the candidate’s arm, they escorted Trump into the press hall. Clint avoided touching the man like he carried some sort of contagious disease, but he shadowed him closely on the other side. 

They made it into the hall, and he took the stage and immediately spouted what Clint grumbled was “a load of stupid bullshit,” and Natasha had to concur. 

There were no mishaps during the speech, if you didn’t count Trump’s general persona as a mishap in itself. 

Natasha spent the majority of the speech, in between glances around the room, as was her job, rubbing reassuring circles on Clint’s back so he didn’t up and shoot the guy himself, and mentally preparing for the drive back to wherever the hell the egomaniac was staying. 

As it turned out, though, a pair of agents showed up to question Trump about tax fraud, and Nat felt like Christmas had come early. Clint looked as visibly relived as she felt. 

On the way out, Clint threw an arm around her shoulders in relief. 

“Maybe he’ll be indited and won’t be able to run anymore,” he mused hopefully. 

Natasha shook her head, sighing for the umpteenth time. “No, Clint,” she said sadly. “I think the man might actually be our president.” Clint groaned at that. “I don’t like it anymore than you do. But hey, technically I’m not a citizen anymore anyway. At least they’ll let you vote.” 

“Yeah, real fuckin exciting. Excellent prospects I’v got,” he growled sarcastically. 

“Well hey, look on the bright side. We can always revert back to our old ways and pull a Banner in Maui.”

By this time, the duo had reached the car. 

“Y’know,” Clint mused, opening the door and hopping in, “that’s looking like a better prospect withe every passing day.”

Natasha peeled off into the sunset while Clint, in the passenger seat, loosened his tie and googled apartments available in tropical regions. 

The end.


	6. noh/kate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated t. fluff.

Noh was admittedly naive when it came to Earth customs and social procedures, but he did try his best to learn. It was intrinsic in his character, as well as instilled by the diplomatic training he had received, that he attempt to mimic an, when necessary or convenient, absorb the culture he was immersed in. Being with the Young Avengers, that culture currently happened to be that of Earth.

After beginning his relationship with kate Bishop, he took it upon himself to ensure that he properly knew all of the Earth courting and mating customs. Meaning, he read all the literature on the subject that he had access to in his vast databases, including staples of pop culture such as those flashy, trashy pulp novels that featured partially-nude muscular men on the cover.

He used any opportunity to put his new knowledge to use when he suspected it was appropriate. He brought Kate flowers, and gave her his tops and jackets to clothe herself, a gesture that she actually seemed to enjoy, although he did not understand the purpose at all.

He surveyed the current scene with the same sense of pride that came over him when he made Kate happy. They had stopped a bank heist; it was a relatively simple procedure and highly successful. Kate had shouldered her bow, and was posed with one hand on her hip, the other hanging loosely by her side, watching the cops stuff the attempted heisters in the back of a cop car.

Noh turned to her, breaking the silence. “We did well today.” She grinned this remark.

“No, it was mostly you,” she said. She wasn’t overly modest, she only spoke what she thought to be the truth at all times. It was a brutal honesty, in some cases, oftentimes considered brusque, and it was the reason she got along so well with Barton. It wasn’t for lack of social graces, she had plenty of those. It was simply the belief that being a bit cut and dry and cutting out all of the lies was necessary for maintaining interpersonal relations. Sometimes this meant that their romantic life was a bit dry as well, at least compared to what Noh observed from other human relationships and the portrayal in the media, which of course was not always accurate.

“You’re the one who actually laid hands on them, you know,” she continued. Noh smiled, moving closer to Kate to put a hand on her lower back. “Yes, but you were the one that scared the first man into dropping his gun.” He laughed a bit when Kate blushed.

“Well, yeah-” she made a vague gesture with one hand, which Noh gently grabbed out of the air and clasped in his own, raising it close to his face.

“It is always an honor to work with you, Miss Kate Bishop,” he said, ducking his head to place a kiss on her hand. She stilled, frozen with a warm feeling in her chest when his lips made contact, soft skin on skin, sending a warm fluttery heat straight to her cheeks.


	7. nohkate, ft minimoffs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's pregnant? it's kate.

“Is… Isn’t Kate the pregnant one?” inquired Billy, hesitantly, raising one eyebrow at the happy couple. 

Kate rolled her eyes. “Yeah.” She gave a pointed glare to Noh as he shoved yet another chocolate-covered pickle in his mouth. “He also has all the nerves, I’m afraid,” she continued with an air of playful exasperation. 

“Hewy!” Noh interjected through a mouth ful of food. He swallowed painfully before continuing. “Human infants are fragile! Fragile!” He rasped through a cough. “Says the one who almost choked on a chocolate covered pickle? For god’s sake, babe.” Billy laughed so hard he snorted coke out of his nose, and now Kate was standing between two men in her life, choking and coughing and generally spluttering about. 

“Yeah, but we’re healthy! …Physically,” Billy added with a pause, making the universal gesture for “crazy” with one finger next to his temple. He had become much more open about things in recent years, using that sort of humor as a coping mechanism at times. 

Kate rolled her eyes. “I’m only six weeks, guys. Seriously. It’s not like I’m riding anything. Or fighting any alien invasions.” She glanced over at Noh, who was nodding contemplatively. “I’ve made her agree to stay out of any missions for now.” He shook his head mumbling; he reached over and grabbed Kate’s hand, lacing their fingers together as the trio strolled through the grounds of the fair. “Hopefully she listens to that, at least,” he added, in a mumble under his breath. 

Kate punched him sharply in the arm with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his. 

“Hey!” She just chuckled as he pouted, comically. “I hope the baby gets your personality,” he added with a roll of his eyes. He leaned in, kissing her tenderly to show the actual intention behind his remark, but Billy noticed Kate’s hesitancy in the kiss. 

“Um… Actually, about that… I have something to tell you about the babe… ies.” There was a pregnant (pun intended) pause as she surveyed his face. “Babies. Plural. I’m having twins.” 

Noh inhaled deeply, his hand going lax, dropping the negligible remainder of his pickle on the ground. 

“Shit, I thought that was just my family. Guess it’s a superhero thing,” he said as Noh embraced Kate for a second time. 


	8. nohcentric gen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the y.a. skwad lives with a krazy kree.

Noh never fucking???? Puts his clothes on?????  
(“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Kate would say as her eyes trail over the aesthetically brilliant sight of Noh dancing in his underwear to whatever latest music trend he’s into this time- he’s discovered 80s pop, it seems.)

“Seriously Noh why is your body so goddamn /perfect/” (the team complains about this but honestly they enjoy it. It’s a nice sight. Even America has to be appreciative, cmon, was he fucking sculpted? He was probably sculpted smh clearly inhuman perfection)

“It’s not fair,” tommy grumbles, “he was literally made in a lab of CoUrSe he’s perfect,” he laments through a mouthful of Cheetos. (“You better just be thankful for your metabolism, Shepherd,” Kate says with pursed lips and a smile on her eyes. Tommy sticks out his tongue.) “some of us can’t compete!”

  
Noh gets drunk. Not off human alcohol, but this alien shit that’s also basically the only thing that tommy can get drunk off of too, what with the metabolism and all.  
When Noh hits a certain level of inebriation, clothes sort of start falling off his body like leaves off the trees in autumn. He ends up completely naked once, just sitting and singing a song. (“No I was *not* //staring at it// leave me //alone//” –tommy, the next day, when Kate jests about his flagrantly meandering eyes)

The breaking point comes when Noh does his laundry. /completely naked./   
(“This way, all of the apparel is laundered simultaneously,” he explains, gesturing to the washing machine as he explains his *brilliant* plan to a slack-jawed speedster, who is very busy not staring at anything but noh’s eyes, eye contact, goddamnit, eye contACT,)

The next week, tommy has to explain to Noh that it’s, ahem, not exactly socially acceptable to open the door for the mailman literally stark naked and freshly post-sex-showered. Noh just laughs. ((Then they need another post-sex shower.))

“GOD, Noh-Varr,“America groans. Why does this happen to her. She did not ask for this. She’s a good person. Okay, she’s not a **bad** person, she doesn’t deserve to see a partially-clothed Kree around every corner. “Can you just, for //once//, put some pants on?” She finishes with an exasperated sigh, eyes closed and hand to her temple.

The rest of the team chalks it up to a Kree thing and they don’t really question it. (Billy and teddy are having dinner with Xavin and Karolina one night- bonding between gay aliens, they laugh- and Billy makes a passing remark about the kree’s complete lack of modesty; xavin’s eyes go bug-wide and she almost choked on her food as she explains it’s just a Noh-Varr thing. at least, in this universe.)


	9. noh/tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning character death. rated m.

They had won, but just barely. Everyone was run-down and looking quite the worse-for-wear.

Tommy allowed himself an appreciative glance at the wreckage of the alien spacecraft; the setting sun bounced its rays off of the metal.

“T-tommy,” came a choked groan from somewhere behind him.

Tommy spun around, attuned to the sound of Noh’s voice, the color draining from his face as he took in the Kree.   
Noh was sitting in the rubble, clutching his abdomen, where a dark red stain was beginning to blossom under his fingers, spreading through the white-green fabric of his torn uniform.

“Shit,” Tommy whispered, closing in on Noh and crouching down. “Shit, fuck, are you bleeding?” His voice was delirious with concern, fear, foreign to his own ears.

Noh grimaced. “M'fine, just, I’ll heal,” he said, but he squeezed his eyes shut tighter and Tommy could hear the sound of his teeth grinding in pain, joining in with Tommy’s own heartbeat to form a sinister cacophony.

“Please,” he whispered hoarsely, not sure what he was begging for. Tommy gripped Noh’s arm, other hand tangling fingers in the alien’s hair, squeezing, yanking, anything to affirm “you’re still here,” anything to say “please don’t leave.”

Noh grunted, closing his eyes, and Tommy could feel the breath leaking out of him with the blood.

His eyes burned. His ears were ringing, everything humming, shaking, or maybe it was Tommy that was shaking; he didn’t know.

He screamed for everyone he could think of, names blurring together in haste.   
When he screamed for help his voice was cracking, arms shaking while holding up a body that was a lot heavier than it should have been.

He barely registered the others coming, blind to the proceedings around him. He was only focused on the person laying in the gravel in front of him who should’ve been standing there, should’ve been standing up, next to him, should’ve been, should be.

Tears were streaming down his face, now, leaving tracks in the dust that covered it.

“You promised you’d never leave me! Noh-Varr!” He was shaking the Kree.

“Don’t leave me, I love you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He screamed, looking at the sky as he did so.

“Noh! W-wake- open your eyes, you have t-” he was choking, body wracked with animalistic, inhuman noises.

  
“Don’t… Leave me…” He looked up, meeting the eyes of the others. Billy was crying; Kate had a look of sympathy, pity. Always pity.  
  
There was no looking back. There was no forward, there was nothing.


	10. steve/bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rated t. a little angsty.

“I thought you were dead.”   
That line broke the relative silence of the room, said by Steve as he stroked Bucky’s hair. His voice didn’t crack, but he was cautious with his words, as if every one was a shard of glass on his tongue that could puncture the world and rip him to pieces again.

“Well, I’m not dead, Stevie,” the decidedly alive Bucky whispered, turning over in a tangle of limbs and rustle of sheets. He kissed Steve reassuringly, but Steve had gone still, staring at the ceiling as if there was a motion picture projected onto it.   
“I won’t leave you,” Bucky said, but his sentence trailed off because he couldn’t bear to say the word ‘again’, couldn’t bear to reflect on the fact that he had left Steve ever, at all.

“People think crashing that plane was heroic.” Steve said it as a statement, but Bucky nodded in answer anyway.   
“I couldn’t get drunk, I couldn’t…. Even when I had nothing, I had you, and then when I didn’t have you… I didn’t have anything at all.” Steve couldn’t look at Bucky when he said the words. Bucky knew, though, what he meant. It wasn’t just heroism that made the brave Captain embrace death so readily. “But God, I loved you so much,” he continued, still looking at the ceiling.

“Hey.” Bucky cut in, sharp but quiet, jerking Steve from his reverie. “I know,” he said more softly, looking him in the eyes. “God, I loved you too.” They sat there a minute, gazing into each other’s eyes. This was a habit; a regular joke among the team- eyefucking, “get a room”, hopelessly-in-love jokes and whathaveyou.

Truthfully, there was so much that they couldn’t put into words. It was there, crackling with emotional electricity, leaving them both naked and vulnerable.

Bucky smiled. God, he was lucky. They were both so, so lucky.

With no words readily available, Bucky leaned over and closed the distance with a kiss, and Steve’s hands roamed his back, always touching, always making sure he was there, always there, and alive.   
They had both never felt more alive.


End file.
